


Ash and Teddy Bear Stuffing

by DestinyGuardians



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Aftermath, Canonical Character Death, Death Fic, Gen, I'm still sobbing bitches, Major Spoilers, RipFic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 14:24:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14310648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyGuardians/pseuds/DestinyGuardians
Summary: Watching the battle between the Legends incarnated into a massive Beebo Doll and the time demon Mallus, Rip couldn’t help thinking that it would have been far more interesting if it wasn’t for the fact that he couldn’t get drunk.And that he was dead.





	Ash and Teddy Bear Stuffing

**Author's Note:**

> Oh all the comrades that e'er I've had  
> Are sorry for my going away  
> And all the sweethearts that e'er I've had  
> Would wish me one more day to stay  
> But since it falls unto my lot  
> That I should rise and you should not  
> I'll gently rise and I'll softly call,  
> Good night and joy be with you all
> 
> Good night and joy be with you all.
> 
> \- Parting Glass, Ed Sheeran

Rip watched the battle from afar, through air that smelt like ash and teddy bear stuffing.

In his hands was a bottle of bright red whiskey, the bottle matted with so many layers of dust that it was nearly impossible to see the contents. There was no glass in the other hand because this was supposed to be the end of the world, and at the end of the world you didn’t have a civilized drink, you chugged the whole thing down until your throat burned more than your heart. And that’s what he was doing, as he watched the battle from afar, through air that smelt like ash and teddy bear stuffing.

Rip was sat against the trees that decorated the edge of the massive, barren field. His legs were sprawled out in front of him, crossed over, his favourite outfit on, the alcohol making his hands shake just a little as he drank down one third, then two, than to the last little droplets at the bottom. Yet the effects lasted only seconds before washing away, drifting from his body into nothingness. And still he drank, because that burn felt so good.

It was a ridiculous sight, in front of him. A demon, with wings that could block out the sun and glowing red eyes, getting its arse handed to it by a big, fluffy teddy bear of a thing whose voice taunted the creature with promises of cuddles and giggles. Sometimes the barest hints of a grin tugged at his mouth as he swore he could hear the Legend’s voices echo out from the great warrior’s mouth, screaming their battle cries, which were than translated into that obnoxious laughter.

Even further off, Rip could see the rest of them, cheering on, roaring for the Legend’s victory, spurring them on and calling out individual names. To his surprise he even heard Nora Darhk let out a scream for the Legends, clearly enraged by her father’s death. He guessed that she wasn’t quite the monster he had assumed.

And like him they watched the battle from afar, through air that smelt like ash and teddy bear stuffing.

Rip lifted the bottle to his lips once more, planning to swallow down the last droplets at the bottom when he stopped. He blinked, tilted his head slightly… and then his grin widened.

“Do you think you’ve snuck up on me, my friends?”

From the darkness that had no source, in the small clump of trees where Rip was, Charles McNider stepped out on to his left side, and on the right side came Henry Heywood.

“Not at all,” Henry answered, and though his voice was easy there was no grin in his voice. He leant against the tree and watched the battle as well.

Charles crossed his arms and stared out, eyes somewhere between clear brown and milky white with black veins. “I will admit, it would have been amusing to give you a fright from behind.”

Rip chuckled and sipped his drink. “Wouldn’t it have ever been?”

The alcohol no longer burned as he swallowed it, and he missed that immediately; without the burn, there was no point to even drinking it in the first place. Being tipsy wasn’t an option for him, clearly. Frustrated with that loss he chucked it as far as he could.

As soon as he let go of it, the bottle was gone. It dissipated into wisps of smoke, as ghostly as he was, and rose away into the air that smelt of ash and teddy bear stuffing.

Rip grumbled and shifted. In his hands appeared another bottle, filled to the brim with the same red liquid, and he began chugging all over again. This time the burn returned and he let out a soft sigh. Good; pain was good now.

Charles turned down to look at him. As he moved his form shifted, wavered like a mirage in the air, translucent enough so you could see the trees behind him.

“You shouldn’t do that,” he said, voice calm and soft. “The longer you hold on, the harder it will be for you to let go.”

Henry nodded in agreement, having the same ghost like quality as the other two did. “He’s right.” His eyes were gentle, sorrowful as they turned away from the battle. “You can’t be here forever.”

Rip swallowed hard and shook his head jerkily. “Not forever. I don’t want forever. I just want… I just want to see this.”

Henry and Charles looked at each other over his head, clearly debating how good an idea this was and whether or not it was possible. Rip would have gone kicking and screaming if they’d tried to pull him away at this moment, because he was still so restless, but clearly they came to the conclusion they could allow this, as neither of them said a word.

And so they watched the battle from afar, through air that smelt of ash and teddy bear stuffing.

It was, to be fair, one of the greatest battles Rip had ever witnessed. Not because of its scale, not because of the earth thundering thumps and sounds and the cheering of the spectators. Not because it was flashy or nail bitingly tense. It wasn’t even because of the fact that it was Mallus being beaten left and right by a Beebo Doll.

Because if Rip closed his eyes, if Rip ignored the vicious feeling in him at seeing this monster get what was coming to him, if Rip could detach himself from the mortal plane, then he could feel it. He could feel every emotion, from the hatred and rage in Mallus, to the brimming light and need to protect and save from his Legends. Feeling it was like feeling the vibrations of an instrument that you had yet to be heard played, and still knew to the deepest part of your heart that there was nothing more beautiful. It was the knowledge of knowing what would happen next, a reward that only those who had lived lives worth living would get when their time had come.

The universe sang as it choreographed this battle in front of him; down to every rustle of Beebo’s fur, to the death of the flowers that they crushed underneath them. Everything had its place, its destiny, its fate, all working alongside the concept of free will in these souls, which was a rolling mess of tension that nothing could unravel. Yet somehow, both the meticulous planning and the chaotic choice managed to work side by side in perfect harmony to keep everything they had ever known in working order, in continuous movements that weren’t beholden to the linear concept of time.

Time was meaningless now, here in this place, as every second passed with the beat of a butterfly’s wing that had come to rest in a lilac, calmly going about its day without any notice of the massive, multiverse deciding battle that was going on through the air that smelt of ash and teddy bear stuffing. Reality was nothing but a soup of concepts for Rip to pick out and study, to decide what he found most interesting and take it in.

And life, well… Life was life, in all its glory, and Rip didn’t have the privilege of that adventure anymore. 

But when he opened his eyes again, he did have this sight before him.

Mallus had lost; a slip up, a mistake of understanding how high the massive Beebo Doll could jump, the blue god returned. He had wanted to get the above them, with massive wings to push him high, high, high, high to either run or swoop down as an attack, who knew what his plan had been because it didn’t matter. Because that was his greatest flaw, the greatest flaw of any enemy of the Legends had ever faced.

He’d underestimated them.

Mallus didn’t have time to move out of the way, escape, do anything but let out a shocked roar as the mass of Beebo fell on to him, cackling all the while with the madness that could only come from this team.

“BEEBO. WANT. CUDDLES.”

Its arms were around the demon, trapping him effectively and keeping him from doing anything but struggle uselessly and look down to the ground that was quickly coming up to meet them, with him first. There was no way to get out, no way to get out of the mighty grip of the six totem bearers.

But Mallus did have the ability to look around, through the thick blue fur. And when he did his gaze, burning red with black darker than anything he’d ever seen, fell straight on to Rip and met his own eyes. Somehow, through the veil of death, they made eye contact and knew that the other had seen. They saw each other, knew each other, and understood everything that was about to happen next.

They understood what had happened to Rip, how he was here. A restless spirit whose mission was not complete, but the door to the afterlife would stand waiting for him, for all that he had given the multiverse, and it would let him stay until he had found his peace here on this plane of existence. And the promise of the rest and happiness that would be given to him, for however long his eternity lasted, had taken form in his friends, his most trusted allies, waiting for him on either side.

Mallus didn’t get that honour. He wouldn’t get hell or a prison or torture; what he would get would be nothing. Nothing but a void that was worse than anything that they could imagine, even for a time ending demon and a time master who had seen the end of the multiverse. No peace, no happiness, no victory, no afterlife.

And Rip let that fill him up. He let all his anger and drive and pain and knowledge that he had accumulated because of Mallus fill his heart one last time, fill his soul and mind and everything he was, like he always did with missions. Emotions that lit him up in a golden aura, surrounded by the deepest black, and made it known that all of this was because of his actions.

He put all that behind one raise of the glass, one vicious smile, one wink of the eye, and one silky sentence.

“Cheers, mate.”

And for the first time in his existence, Mallus knew fear.

The blue dust explosion, in the shape of a heart, nearly blew all the standing people off their feet, rippling outwards as a combination of the all the core elements of this universe. The ghosts barely rippled or looked surprised, but there were smiles on their faces that spoke volumes.

The silence that followed for a bit was deafening, as the battle settled from afar, through the air that smelt of ash and teddy bear stuffing.

As the smoke cleared and the people who hadn’t wielded the totems moved forward to see what was going on, a crater became clear. A massive crater, bigger than even Beebo and deeper too, filled with stuffing and little blue pieces of fur, enough to hide all the red and black remains of Mallus and cover up the stench of his blood. The six totem bearers were slowly getting up from the ground, hacking on the tiny fragments of the carnage they’d made, looking around in a sort of stunned shock as the rest came to the edge and looked down.

A few murmured realizations, a couple of questioning cries, and then suddenly they were all hollering, clapping, screaming in joy. They were coming for a hug in the middle, jumping up and down, with a disgruntled Mick telling them to get off of him. But that wouldn’t ruin their mood because they were alive, the universe was safe, and everything was going to be okay.

Everything was going to be okay. 

And Rip felt peace.

He closed his eyes, took in a deep shuddering breath, and let himself feel that for a second. In his hands the bottle disappeared, like the first had, except this one was almost full. And he felt no regrets.

Finally, Henry moved beside him. Rip opened his eyes to look up at his old friend, whose gaze was still just as kind, just as sorrowful and sympathetic. He reached a hand down and gave the Captain a soft smile.

“Come on, Rip,” he said. “We’re all waiting for you. Miranda will have a fit if you hold your reunion off any longer, and Jonas will burst if you make him wait to tell you about all the things he’s learned since you last saw him.”

Rip let out a chuckle, feeling a burn in his eyes that felt good, better than the alcohol could give him. He grabbed on to Henry’s hand, just like the six totem bearers were grabbing on to the others to get out of the crater, and pulled himself to his feet. He was still shocked by how light he was now, after having carried his soul like a rock in his chest all these years.

He looked back out to the remains of a battle from afar, through air that smelt of ash and teddy bear stuffing. He heard the laughter, heard the cries of victory, and suddenly wished he could join them there.

“What if…” Rip swallowed and hung his head slightly. The fear that he’d been holding back for so long, created by all the awful things he’d seen and done, finally came out in a quiet murmur. “What if there was still something I could do?”

Charles tilted his head and stepped forward to stand by Rip’s other side, making sure he met his eyes.

“Our deepest apologies that saving time, the multiverse, and reality itself on multiple occasions wasn’t enough for your ego,” Charles said, voice sarcastic and deadpanned.

Rip managed to choke out the slightest laugh, voice still warbling. “I-It’s not an ego thing! It’s simply… I … I could have done so much more.”

Charles lost that humour and sarcasm quickly enough, nodding in agreement and looking like he understood that sentence down to his core. “We all think like that, people like us. We always think that there is something more that can be done; something more that we could have done when we still had the chance. Regrets follow you into the afterlife as well.” His voice had taken on a sad tone, filled with an old grief and acceptance that only came from moving past an awful thing.

“But you can comfort yourself with the things you did,” Henry added, grabbing on to Rip’s hand a little more securely and squeezing slightly. “And you… you did so much. More than anything else you could have done in the rest of your years if you’d stayed alive.”

Rip sighed and looked back at the group of legends, of winners, of people who walked across the ground and had weight, who didn’t waver with every little gust of wind. They were all walking back to the town, filled with a mess they would have to clean up, voices chittering and still dealing with the adrenaline rush of their triumph-

Rip’s train of thought stopped when he noticed not all of them had moved from the edge of the crater. Wally West still stood there, face upturned to the sky, right hand up to hold on to a place just over his heart. From a distance Rip could just see his mouth moving, eyes closed, clearly muttering something.

Rip frowned and blinked, confused to what the young man was doing. He could hear what he was saying, and indeed what he was even feeling outside of the soft smile on his face. Apparently the rest of the team was equally baffled, as they stopped and turned around, equally baffled.

“Wally?” Zari asked the speedster. “What are you doing?”

Wally didn’t answer for a few seconds, finishing whatever he was saying, before making a cross on his chest and opening his eyes again.

“Hey, Rip!” he called out to the sky, like he was talking to someone. He pointed to the crater. “This was for you! All of this, for you, man! You were worth it!”

Rip inhaled sharply. The words didn’t just resonate as vocal vibrations but as solid facts of the universe, in his mind and heart. He felt shocked for a second, taking an almost automatic step forward as if he could grab on to Wally and hold him for saying that.

The group startled slightly, surprised as well, but Ray caught on almost immediately and went over to Wally, head also tipped upwards to the sky.

“Yeah, Rip!” He shouted with a huge grin on his face and waving to the sky. “We did this for you! For what you did! We did this for you!”

And just like that, within bare seconds, the rest were following suit with the slightest glances to each other. Knowing that demons existed, and having had conversations with past ancestors, fighting literal ghosts, they had all come to terms with the thought of an afterlife and spirits that existed beyond the mortal plane, and so they didn’t seem to question for a second as they all turned up to the sky and shouted the same thing.

Calls about how they had fought for his memory, how they had done this for what he had told them, for what he had sacrificed himself for.

They told him how much they were grateful to what he’d done, and how much they would always remember him.

They said that they wouldn’t forget his memory, that they would be damn sure that everyone he’d ever saved or helped would remember him, and that no would would ever forget the funeral they held for him.

They said how this was all thanks to him and that, no matter what had happened recently, they were still his friends, and that they still did, above all, love him.

They screeched and hollered and waved and jumped till their throats were hoarse and they couldn’t come up with anything to say anymore. They called out names of people for him to say hi to, of people who had passed as well.

“Tell Gray he better be getting out now and again from all the books he has!” Jax cried out.

“He does,” Charles muttered to Rip.

“If you see my brother… tell him how much I love him, and that I’ll be taking good care of his totem!” Zari continued on next, the wind whirling around her with her emotions.

“Give my mother a hug!” Wally was next.

“Give Snart a punch for that stupid stunt he pulled!” Mick roared right back. He hadn’t been as enthusiastic, but he had waved at the sky. “And take care of my rat!”

“Tell Anna I say hi!” Ray kept going. “Tell her that I’m sorry… and that I love her!”

“Hey, can you ask my… can you tell me grandfather how proud I am to be his family!?” Nate shouted. “And that I hope he’s proud of me!”

There was a sheen over Henry’s eyes, and he gave his grandson a watery smile. “Nathaniel, I couldn’t possibly be prouder of you.”

Amaya stepped forward to grab on to Nate’s hand. “Say to Rex, I wish I could have done more for him! And give my apologies to Charles as well; you better be doing the same, Captain Hunter!”

Rip winced, that guilt rising up in him. He turned to look at Charles with wounded eyes, that old pain rising up in him again.

“I’m so sorry, Charles,” he said, voice deeply remorseful. “I wish I could take it back, and know that it wasn’t me.”

Charles looked at him for a long few seconds, face blank, before he reached up and cuffed Rip around the head, enough to hurt.

“There,” he stated simply. “We’re even.” He rested that same hand on Rip’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “My friend.”

Jonah didn’t really speak much. He just put his hat on his heart and looked up at the sky, giving a rare, true, smile. He saluted the empty air, letting out a quiet chuckle, and if you were to look at him from a certain angle with this specific light you could say there was the faintest hints of tears in his eyes.

Ava waved at the sky, equally quiet, but there was a look on her face that spoke of no more anger, or hatred. She seemed to be a peace with herself, and for that Rip was grateful. Her body had been replaceable, but the mind that she had created for herself was irreplaceable, unchangeable, and completely extraordinary.

Kuasa was following her lead, waving automatically at the sky. This version had never been a double agent for Rip, never grown to be comrade and perhaps even friend, but something must have transcended through the change in the timeline as there was sadness on her face. Beside her Helen of Troy was muttering prayers, sending out wishes to Rip in his next life and for the twelve gods and goddesses to treat him with honours.

Sara only let out a few agreements and quick waves with the people around her, before she went quiet and her hands fell to her side, looking at the sky. Her face was unreadable, her blue eyes gleaming, but now and again flickers of grief, of loss, of guilt, of confusion came across her expression, like she understood the consequences of her actions and what they had caused, yet couldn’t accept them. Rip didn’t feel the need to change that, she should know, but he felt no anger. He loved her too much.

Finally, after everyone had begun to quiet and Rip didn’t think he had any more tears to shed at the sight, a fierce sort of determination came on to her face and she shoved to the front.

“This was all thanks to you!” She cried out, louder than anyone else. Now she had allowed her emotions to burst through, filled with sorrow and pain but also desperation to release all that she had ever loved about him. “All of us are standing here, now, having just done this? This was all because of you, Rip!” Gratefulness spilled from her voice, more than Rip could stand, and her words began to crack. “You saved us, you gave us a mission, and you gave us a life when we weren’t destined to have anything! You are the reason we’re alive and who we are, why the multiverse is what it is! You’re the reason for this, Rip, and that’s something we can’t repay you for!”

Rip let out a sob, and quickly shoved it back in because he wanted to hear everything Sara might have to say. However, she seemed like she couldn’t continue anymore, being too overwhelmed with all that she had been holding back over the course of the mission. Instead all she could manage was a quiet, “Thank you.”

The others echoed her, and Rip let out three more sobs before reining himself in. Charles had been right, regrets would follow him for the rest of his eternity, and one of them would be the fact that he couldn’t leap at them and thank them back, for the light they’d given him and how they had saved him. He wanted to babble and hold them and feel his friends again, but Henry’s hand in his was surer than the sight before him, so all he could do was rock back and forth slightly.

Sara turned away from the sky and scoped the ground around her. She swept the grass, the destruction, the butterfly on its lilac flower, and then finally came to rest on him. The Death Totem on her neck glowed, and Rip knew that in that moment she could see him through the air that smelt of ash and teddy bear stuffing.

Sara stared at him, mouth slightly open, studying his ghostly form like she couldn’t stop. Then they met each other’s eyes, Captain to Captain, tears on their faces, and gave each other matching smiles. The second lasted an eternity, and the eternity lasted a second as they looked at each other.

“… Have a drink with Laurel for me, Captain?” she asked. Her voice was a murmur but Rip could hear it as clearly as he could Miranda’s voice, calling to him from the darkness that Henry and Charles had come from, where he would be going in barely a minute, he knew.

Rip nodded, wiping away the tears and trying to pull his composure back together.

“I will. I promise… Captain.”

Sara grinned brighter, and the Death Totem stopped glowing. With it, Rip disappeared from their life.

Rip took in that minute, of the group finally awakening from the trance and began to move back to the village, all slightly more somber but now knowing that they had accomplished his mission, and had done it for him.

“Come on,” Henry murmured, and tugged slightly. “It’s time.”

This time, Rip didn’t resist. He turned to the darkness that was the entrance to the afterlife. He could hear the voices through the other side, people who were waiting for him for so long. He could even hear his birth mother, a face from a childhood long before the time masters and still happy; he never thought he would ever again.

Darkness was a more fitting entrance for the next life. Light was the domain of the living, the light of the burning sun, the spark of flames in hearts, needed to see with eyes that still biologically required it. Light was for the ones who had a path that needed to be guided, still bumbling through the mess of it like newborn children all the way through but finding joy in what was illuminated for it. Darkness came with night, with finale sleep, with rest and comfort. Darkness was a mystery, a surprise, and something that could be filled with just about anything. It was unchangeable and the most peaceful thing you would ever see. Who knew what awaited him, but Rip wasn’t scared.

And he looked back once more, tears still fresh, before it came over him and he was bundled into the arms of Miranda, of Jonas, of everyone he’d ever lost, and said, “Good luck, my dearest Legends.”

And if that carried through and made them stop, startle, turn around and realize they’d heard his voice, well… that was a problem for the living, who were afar now, through air that smelt of ash and teddy bear stuffing.

**Author's Note:**

> I grief wrote this in three hours with tears in my eyes and 6 cans of coco cola at like 10 o'clock in the night listening to the Parting Glass on loop, because we all needed some better closure for this and I love me the Spear Protection Squad. 
> 
> For your enjoyment, cry with me.


End file.
